


Strength

by argylesocks



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Claiming, M/M, Marking, Urination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:09:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argylesocks/pseuds/argylesocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was Peter who clued Stiles in. Stiles didn’t like to remember that conversation but a small part of him acknowledged that Peter had been matter-of-fact with only a slight hint of mocking towards the end when Stiles had gotten a bit melodramatic.</p><p>Not that Stiles thought it was possible to be the least bit melodramatic when Peter cornered him and told him that Derek wanted to piss on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moit/gifts).



> This chapter is more about how much I love Peter and what a manipulative bastard he is. The second chapter will focus on Stiles' decision and its consequences.

It was Peter who clued Stiles in. Stiles didn’t like to remember that conversation and he kept his distance from Peter for a long time afterwards, but a small part of him acknowledged that Peter had been matter-of-fact with only a slight hint of mocking towards the end when Stiles had gotten a bit melodramatic.

Not that Stiles thought it was possible to be the least bit melodramatic when Peter cornered him and told him that Derek wanted to piss on him. He’d been so shocked that he hadn’t made a single dog joke despite Peter actually likening the behavior to dogs and specifying it had a lot to do with scent.

No, he didn’t like to remember that conversation, but it lingered with him nonetheless.

He’d never before thought about how private the simple act of pissing really was. After all, just about every guy frequently did it with only the smallest illusion of privacy, the dividers between urinals offering protection only from a direct view, if that. And what guy out in the woods hadn’t whipped his dick out and relieved his bladder only a few feet away from his buddies, his back mostly turned but not entirely because he was still talking to them?

And yet, it really was a private thing. Everyone pretended the dividers in the restroom shielded them on all sides, even if there weren’t any dividers at all. A guy out in the woods with his buddies would find himself friendless if he didn’t turn his back while taking a leak. Stiles had stood next to Scott while they both pissed hundreds of times in their lives, but he couldn’t say what Scott’s posture was like at those times or how many times he shook off. He didn’t even know if the guy pulled it out through the zipper or if he was the full unbutton and lower the jeans type. 

There was a code, a social conditioning cultivated in parallel to the one that dictated when and where it was ok for a guy to piss from the minute he began potty training. And it didn’t include whipping it out and letting go on a another dude.

Once Stiles started thinking about it, he couldn’t stop. And once he’d exhausted himself thinking about everything he knew about it, he had to learn more. 

Image searching turned up a shocking variety of results, though it didn't take long for him to categorize his findings. He determined that the basic categories were kink pissing, sex pissing, and just regular pissing. 

He thought of kink pissing as the most extreme and was vaguely nauseated by the images of people pissing into other people's mouths and all over their faces. That bondage was frequently involved did nothing to endear him to the idea and he really hoped that wasn't what Derek had in mind for him.

Sex pissing was still above his comfort zone but at least no one was tied up and drinking it. It looked harmless and everyone in the pictures looked like they were truly enjoying themselves, so good for them. Not as good for Stiles if it turned out he didn’t have a say in this.

Regular pissing made sense to him. He did it several times a day, alone or not. It didn't seem like that big of a stretch to have someone else really watching him while he did it. His curious nature would even make it likely that he could get into watching someone else do it. But he knew from Peter's comments about marking and scent that Derek would want to do more than just watch or be watched.

It was then that Stiles admitted to himself that he needed to know what exactly it was Derek wanted to do to him. Or why. Or if Stiles had a choice. And to get answers to his questions, he'd have to talk to Peter again.

Peter wasn't forthcoming by nature. He enjoyed keeping information to himself even when he made a show of sharing what he knew. Especially when he made a show of sharing what he knew. If he was telling you a story, you could bet you were hearing only half of it. Maybe less.

"Why? Because he's a maladjusted born-beta who stole his Alphahood and knows he can't reach any higher on the totem pole than claiming a human boy to solidify his status. It's quite funny, really." Stiles' obvious offense left him speechless, and Peter continued. "He has to claim someone if he wants to strengthen his position in the pack. And he has to strengthen his position in the pack if he's going to stand a chance against Deucalion and his minions."

They were in Derek's loft waiting for Scott and Derek to return from their scouting mission of the as-yet unused sacrifice locations. Peter was relaxing on the couch with his eyes closed, hands folded serenely on his torso and legs on the coffee. He looked just as he had the night they found out Cora was still alive and the memory of that night had Stiles pacing more anxiously than usual.

"So he has to piss, what, on me?" Stiles struggled to keep his voice low so he didn't set Peter off, but he made no attempt to mask his outrage and frustration.

"Of course on you, but also around you. When a dog marks a lamppost as part of its territory, it also marks the grounds."

"So I'm just a lamppost?"

"You said it," Peter replied.

"But I'm not! I mean, I move. I don't just stay in one place all the time. Like, if a dog was going to piss all over me, I'd move."

Peter opened his eyes and warned, "Derek isn't a dog." 

Stiles doubted he'd ever understand how the Hales could all hate each other but still be so protective each other. He couldn't even figure out if it was a family thing or a werewolf thing; everyone else he knew loved their family, werewolf and human alike.

"Still," he floundered, "I'd move. And what would be the point, anyways? It isn't like anyone walking by that spot would know he'd been pissing on me and not just the ground."

"Ah. That's where it gets interesting."

"I hate everything you find interesting."

"And this will be no different," Peter said as he sat up, his boots making a dull thud when they hit the floor. He rested his elbows on his knees and leant forward, fixing his hard gaze on Stiles. "To claim you, Derek needs to do it in a place that is unquestionably yours. Someplace like your bedroom."

Stiles stared at him in open mouthed horror, the color draining from his face and leaving a sickly grey pallor behind.

"But don't worry. He's too weak minded, too much of a beta," Peter said dismissively as he relaxed back into his earlier position. "He'll never do it."

"And Deucalion will kill him?"

"Deucalion doesn't want him. Never did."

"Huh?"

"Scott will kill him."

"Scott would never kill anybody."

"Scott will kill him and become alpha of Derek's pack. Then he'll kill me, Cora, and Isaac. Oh, and of course you and Allison, too. Maybe Lydia; it depends on if Scott thinks of her as pack or not. And then Deucalion will have what he came to Beacon Hills for and move on to recruit the next alpha he wants for his pack. And your dad's job will be a lot easier since there won't be any werewolves left in town."

The alarm at the loft door signaled Derek and Scott's return before Stiles had a chance to reply, but Peter wasn't interested in hearing his protestations, anyway. He'd carefully readied the ground and then planted the seed. Now all he had to do was wait as it grew.


End file.
